I actually saw this on the local weather Friday. We had rain all day Thursday, some of it rather hard rain. When I turned on the local news today, I was astounded. Most of the state here received rain, from 3 tenths to a little over 1 inch.

My town only received 2 and a quarter inches.

Was God upset with us here for some reason?

?

America is great. Always has been great. Is it perfect? No. Is it better than most countries in the world? Yes.

If it wasn't great, we wouldn't have so many people trying to come here.

~

Last Saturday it rained all day long, so I kicked back and spent the day in self-reflection, what I like to call maxin' and relaxin'.

Then I heard this song, and everything fell into place:


I'm alive and happy for the opportunity!

It was terrible to see the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral. People have been criticizing the rich for pledging $6 billion dollars to fix the damage.

I think along the lines now as I did when the govt. had the bailout here. If all of that money were dispersed to the needy, think of how much better everyone would be.

~

Today, 3 days of rain has finally stopped and the sun is shining.

61 degrees. Wonderful weather for Easter!

Have a happy day, y'all... no matter what you do or do not believe.

I was just on FB. I posted a couple of photos of changes that have been made to formerly depressed areas in my town. Someone I know decided to make a snobby comment about the changes, as in 'that's not good enough'. It seems to me that if something looks ugly and you change it to make it look better, what's the harm? I said so. They didn't agree and started to get what I call snarky about it.

No matter what I said, they kept up the snarky comments. Well, me being me, I will tolerate that attitude for only so long. I laid into miss 'high and mighty'. I waited a while, heard nothing but the sound of crickets and moved on.

I'm a nice guy, but only for so long.

I've always liked the rain. Especially in the spring and summer. Everything looks so green, and smells so fresh.
My late Grandfather always said that the sound of thunder was God driving the 'tater wagon. I've heard others say that thunder was God bowling and lightning was God getting a strike. Occasionally I let my mind drift to bittersweet memories of my youth:


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It's raining again today. A soft cascade that makes me feel mellow inside my mind.

Ahhhh...

Rain is pattering down on my rooftop today. The sound has me remembering summer visits to my Grandparent's farm as a child.

My Grandparents were both born in the 1890's ('94 and '9 and married in the 1910's. My Grandfather built the farmhouse on the 100 acres he received as a dowry from my Grandmother's parents in the hills of Tennessee.

Visiting the farm was like going back in time: Electricity, but no running water or indoor 'facilities'. A wood burning stove for cooking. We carried water up from the artesian well for cooking, cleaning and bathing. Part of the daily chores were feeding the chickens and the mule, plus milking the cow.

The house itself was made of wood. It had a tin roof and a front porch that ran the length of the house. A swing was at one end, close by the front door. In the evenings, after supper, my grandparents would sit there and tell stories. Sometimes my Dad (who played in a bluegrass band) would play his guitar and we'd all sing.

At bedtime, you crawled into a feather bed, sinking down and getting snug. When it rained, the patter of the rain on the tin roof lulled you to sleep quickly.

The house and the farm are long gone now, as are my Grandparents and my parents. The rain today reminds me of those simple times of my childhood and makes me smile.

~

... the Good Friday holiday is renamed Spring Holiday.

But the Christmas Holiday is still called Christmas Holiday.

Why not call it Winter Holiday, if you're going to make religious holidays non secular?

~

My dreams are generally realistic, but sometimes they are so spot on that when I wake up I feel as though they've just happened in reality. Last night was another one:

I met a petite, short haired blonde with blue eyes at an outdoor concert in my town. The band was playing music from my time, about 40 years ago. I asked her where her grandparents were, surely she didn't come here on her own. She laughed and said this was her music, that she had always felt like she was born in the wrong time period. I scoffed at her and asked her if she were talking to me on some sort of a dare. No, she replied, she had always liked older people in general and older men specifically. Maybe it was the wine that made me do it, but I took her hand and danced with her for a while. I know it's an old man's fantasy, this May December thing, but it seemed so real and genuine. After a bit, she abruptly started to walk away. I asked her where she was going. She said that if I truly wanted her I would find her. I stood there watching her walk away, internally trying to decide if this was a fool's errand, this desire to be with her. My heart was racing. When she was a block away I followed quickly after her, almost running to catch up. She turned a corner and was gone from view. In a near panic I began to run, looking every which way until I saw her off in the distance with a group of friends her own age. I finally caught up with them and one of the guys with her asked why it took me so long to find her. I touched her shoulder. She turned, smiled at me and asked why it had taken so long to find her. Then she softly kissed me... and I woke up.

I swear I could still taste her lips.

~